


A soul shattered into pieces

by MickeyMouse99



Category: La casa de papel (TV)
Genre: Angst, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickeyMouse99/pseuds/MickeyMouse99
Summary: Somethings can not be described with words.





	A soul shattered into pieces

Andrés was a complete bastard, a royal son of a bitch.  
Whoever knew him, would have described him only with negative adjectives. Pig, misogynous, homophobic, selfish, maniac, liar... A never ending list.  
That sadist was clever too; he had experience on how to talk to people, showed himself touched by their problems, caring for them.  
Just for fucking them better.  
It wasn't beneficial to his victim, only to himself. It was comparable to opening someone with only a finger before brutally fisting them. The entrance is lubed, and he sure gave them some warning, but while his dick was safe inside the pants, their ass would bleed all over.  
It seemed like everything in his soul was drawn to the dark side.

There were positive qualities in him: he was meticulous, a great worker, he submitted to orders and flawlessly carried them on.  
If anyone asked that was the reason the Professor chose him to be part of the heist.

Naturally, nobody knew the character was a facade.  
There were other motives for that selection; he and Berlin had been one for a long time, their bond was stronger than blood.  
Sergio was convinced that there was a time, before their births, when their souls were melted together in one big entity. Torn apart only so they could live in their bodies but always calling for each other.  
They would recreate what once was.  
Like in Plato's Symposium, they completed each other, not as two half of a whole, but as fragments of a set, pieces of a beautiful puzzle.

Words alone couldn't describe what they felt when they were in each other's arms.  
Talking about it to a stranger would have been like describing a melody: can names recreate a feeling?  
Probably not.  
It's impossible to explain that Andrés, every time he hugged his brother, had an out-of-body experience. Shot up in space with no gravity holding him back.

They could spend entire days laid side by side, without acknowledging the time passing. Sometimes even forgetting where they were.  
When Sergio put his hear on Andrés' torso and listened to his beating heart, he could feel his own inside his chest. Together as one, pumping blood into their bodies.  
When they made love was when they sensed the fusion the best. Everything disappeared in a blur. Colours, tastes, odours didn't matter any longer.  
Nothing had form or mass.  
The two of them had no beginning or end. They felt like conjoined twins or even better like two different personalities sharing one body.

They breathed together, ate together, moved together, lived together and - in a way - died together.  
Twice.

The first time happened when they understood that if they wanted to do the biggest money heist in the history of crime, they had to conform to rules. And their relationship would have broken a few ones.  
They had to go back to what they had been; when Sergio was only a child forced into a hospital bed and Andrés a young thief.

And like that, Berlin and the Professor were born.  
The months before the robbery were the toughest of their lives because for the first time since they'd met, they could not be themselves. The awareness that once the heist would be over they would no longer have limits, was for them a lifeboat in a stormy sea.

Then the second time came. It was definitive... At least for Andrés.  
The bullets perforated him in a hallway of the Royal Mint of Spain, crashing and destroying anything in their ways: veins, bones, muscles...  
There, among his organs, they found Sergio who had never left.

The two brothers were gone and never came back.

Only the Professor was left alive, but he was only a fictional character, a part to play.  
A script abandoned on an empty stage, with no actors or audience.

Waiting for the time to consume it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> I wrote this yesterday in my notebook while listening to some music and today I decided to publish it on ao3. 
> 
> I really, really have to thank son_of_jesse for their kind words, encouraging me to write more. I writing for me is hard.  
> I struggle to keep going on with something and finish it.  
> Thanks again!
> 
> Mickey


End file.
